


Dream of Darkness

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-18
Updated: 2004-10-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 13:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10335860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: WARNINGS: Jack expresses feelings.SPOILERS: tag to Absolute Power, Everything up to Absolute Power (just to be safe), and a bit for the LightSEASON:  4SUMMARY: Sometimes the line between dreams and reality is blurred, especially when you involve an ascended being.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Stargate SG-1 Fanfiction - Dream of Darkness

The empty apartment greeted the archaeologist with the oppressive silence of a long abandoned tomb. Usually he found the quiet solitude refreshing after the blaring klaxons, overhead messages and constant interruptions at Cheyenne Mountain. Tonight the image of the empty tomb just could not be banished from Daniel's dark thoughts.

A cloak of loneliness dropped over Daniel's shoulders. The orphan had spent much of his life alone; often by choice, but after more than three years with SG-1 he had become accustomed to his 'family' being available to him. How could he approach his friends now?

Shifu's dream replayed itself over and over again, each time cementing Daniel's conviction that he could do those things. Maybe he had sent Teal'c to his death, alienated and incarcerated Sam, and had treated Jack exactly the way Daniel himself hated to be treated. Ignored him and then bluntly insulted not only Jack's intelligence, but Jack himself. How could he ever face them again?

Daniel blinked, at once noticing that night had descended on Colorado Springs. How long had he been standing at the front door? How long had he been staring at the dark empty room? It had been light when he had entered the building's underground parking garage. What time had he arrived home? He remembered listening to the news report on the radio during the drive. Which report? Five o'clock? Six o'clock? When was sunset? To know that Daniel would have to figure out what day, what month it was. Suddenly Daniel felt old, tired, worn down. So much time spent off world or in the depths of Cheyenne Mountain where there was no sun to mark the passage of time. How would a civilization, not exposed to the sun, have marked time? Would the water clock have been invented earlier? Would ancient man have invented something completely different, their reliance on the sun never having developed?

Daniel had drifted again. On some level he knew his weariness was causing his thoughts to flow aimlessly, unable to concentrate long enough, even, to get his coat and shoes off. A clock. Daniel needed to ground himself in the moment, in the present not the past. Not in what might have been. He looked at his left wrist, no watch. Had he left it in his locker on the base? Had he worn it to work? How long ago was it that he had gone into work? The dream made it difficult to reconcile the time spent in Shifu's dream world and real time. Daniel caught himself drifting back into that world. Oh no, not again, he wasn't going to get lost in that thought loop again. There was a clock on his bedside table, a clock radio with large, glowing, blue numbers. Even in the gloom of the unlit room he would be able to read the time. Quickly, before his mind wandered again, Daniel kicked off his shoes, shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, throwing it unceremoniously onto the nearby couch and with very deliberate steps, headed to the bedroom. In one swift movement the door was pushed open and the be speckled man's weight was dropped onto the side of the bed. On the bedside table sat his extra glasses atop the book he had been reading. Without turning on the light, Daniel couldn't read the title and he couldn't, for the life of him, remember what he had been reading the last time he lay in this bed. In fact he couldn't remember the last time he lay in this bed at all. He was drifting again. Time. What time was it? There was the 'phone beside the book, where was the clock radio? Daniel stared at the 'phone, willing it to become a clock, any kind of clock. Okay, not going to become a clock. Where was the clock radio? He glanced around the dark room, the pieces of furniture were featureless, dark shapes in the gloom, but no big blue, glowing numbers. 

Fragments of thoughts flitted across the surface of Daniel's mind, none stopping long enough to be examined. Past missions, reports he had written, lectures he had attended, a quiet dinner with Sha're, a noisy cocktail party with Sara on his arm, an argument with Steven, a joke shared with Jack, leaning over Sam's shoulder as she explained some gizmo, sitting in Teal'c's candlelit room, opening his eyes to the beauty that was Doctor Janet Fraiser, the General listening intently to an issue being explained, the Stargate, the briefing room, his lab, Jack's living room. The scenes flashed faster and faster. There was no obvious connection, no apparent cohesion.

"Sir!"

"Yeah, Carter what is it?"

Major Samantha Carter jogged down the crowded hall to catch up to her C.O.

"Have you seen Daniel?"

"Nope."

Sam dodged airmen leaving the mess hall as she tried to keep up with Jack O'Neill's long stride. 'Sure, nobody dared get in the colonel's way, but it was fine to play pedestrian chicken with a lowly major.' Sam thought ruefully to herself. 

"Daniel didn't report in this morning, sir. I was just wondering if you had spoken to him?"

"No, I have not spoken to Daniel. He left the base without a word after the kid did his glowy thing. He obviously wanted space, so I gave him space."

"That was two days ago, sir. You..."

"Yes, Carter. Two very quiet, very restful days in which I tried very had to forget I had ever heard the names Shifu or Daniel Jackson." 

He was not going to let Carter make him feel guilty for not checking on their errant archaeologist. Carter was better at the touch-feely stuff, why didn't she call Daniel? Why did it always have to be him? Jack, of course, knew. He knew how it felt to lose a son, and Jack was the one who understood Daniel like no one else had since his parents had died.

"Yes sir, I understand why you might want to do that, but don't you think you should talk to Daniel about what happened?"

"Nothing happened, Carter. Daniel spent several hours dreaming. Shifu didn't hurt Daniel and we didn't hurt Shifu. Now if you don't mind, Major, I am going to get some lunch." Jack turned to continue down the hall.

"Yes, sir...I...I mean no, sir, I don't mind." Sam was left standing in the middle of the hall, a thoughtful frown marring her perfect features. It was worse than she had first thought. Daniel had not spoken to Jack about the dream Shifu had given him, they had not spoken at all in the past two days, which was very unlike them. Now Daniel was avoiding the base. This could not be a good sign. Sam decided to try another approach.

Jack sat alone, his back to the wall, in the corner of the mess hall farthest from the door. The lunch that he had been in a hurry for moments ago was now a cooling and congealing mess on the plate in front of him. Part of what he had said to his 2IC had been true, he had spent his two days downtime trying really hard to forget about one infuriating scientist who refused to say a single word about the hours he had spent unconscious in the infirmary, by his own report, dreaming. Jack knew a quiet Daniel was a hurting Daniel, but he also knew he really sucked at the sharing feelings thing. This conundrum had kept Jack on the couch, beer in hand, TV on, staring at the 'phone for most of his time off. The scraping of chair legs against concrete brought Jack abruptly out of his thoughts.

"Hey Teal'c." Jack really was FUBAR. Teal'c had come all the way across the mess hall and Jack hadn't even noticed.

"O'Neill, is it true you have not spoken to Daniel Jackson since the departure of Share's son?"

"What about it? I'm not his mother, Teal'c. If Daniel wanted to talk about what happened, I'm sure he would have."

"I have observed that this is not always the case. It often takes a friend to encourage Daniel Jackson to speak of his concerns. You are most often that friend, O'Neill."

"Yeah, will, in case you haven't noticed that 'friend' thing has been a little shaky lately."

"I have noticed, O'Neill. Is this not a good time to rectify the situation?"

"Yeah, OK I give in." Jack said with his palms raised to his shoulders. "I'll track Daniel down and see what's up."

Teal'c's response was to rise fluidly to his feet, bow to Jack and quickly exit the mess hall. His mission now complete.

Jack decided to give up on the mess that had been his lunch. He deposited the tray on the rolling cart outside the noisy dish room and left the mess hall.

Jack's first stop was Daniel's lab. It was dark and deserted; there were no half-full, lukewarm cups of coffee to indicate Daniel had been there recently. A quick call to the front gate on Daniel's 'phone confirmed Carter's report that Daniel had, indeed, not reported to work that day. The more Jack thought about this, the more it bothered him. Jack was dialing Daniel's home number almost before the thought occurred to him. Hoping against hope that his civilian had merely opted to work at home that day. Of course, Jack, as his C.O., should have been informed, but Jack knew sometimes Daniel could shove the civilian thing too far down the throat of the SGC.

The 'phone rang. Daniel started so hard he nearly fell off the edge of the bed. The room came into sharp focus. Daylight was streaming through the slit in the draperies. 'What was the time?'

"You have reached Dr. Daniel Jackson. I am unable to take your call. Please leave you name, number and time you called and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Thank-you. Wait for the tone."

"Daniel are you there? Pick-up the 'phone." Jack's best 'angry colonel' voice blared through the answering machine's tiny speaker.

"Jack?" Daniel's voice was hoarse from disuse.

"Come on, Daniel, I know you're there. Pick-up the 'phone." Jack's tone had mellowed to one of concern.

Slowly, with his brow furrowed in concentration, Daniel reached an unsteady hand toward the 'phone. Finally dislodging the hand-piece from the cradle before the connection was severed.

"Jack?" Daniel's voice was so quiet Jack almost didn't hear him before he started his next tirade to an unheeding answering machine.

"Daniel? You OK?" Jack's voice was now heavy with worry.

"Yeah, why?" There was little or no inflection to Daniel's words.

"Daniel, its 12:30."

"Oh." Finally Daniel knew what time it was. It was afternoon, 12:30 in the afternoon. Was he supposed to be somewhere? Doing something? By Jack's tone he had pissed his friend off (again) either by doing or not doing something. 'Nope, sorry, nothing.' Daniel could not think of what it was he had or had not done to upset Jack this time.

"Oh." Jack perfectly imitated Daniel's absolutely flat tone. "That's all you have to say?"

The silence on the other end of the line suddenly had the short hairs on the back of Jack's neck standing to attention. Something was wrong. This was not just a case of Daniel sleeping through his alarm or getting sidetracked by some line of research. It sounded to Jack like Daniel was not firing on all cylinders; his Happy Meal seemed to be short more than three fries.

"Are you OK, Daniel?"

"Huh?" Was Daniel's toneless reply.

Jack spoke slowly and deliberately as if to a young child. "Don't move. I'm on my way." The line went dead with a loud click.

"OK, Jack." Daniel replied softly to the disconnected line.

The call to General Hammond was very brief. Jack had no details to give the base commander. The colonel was changed and headed down the winding mountain road in less than 15 minutes, his mind racing.

What the hell was up this time? Jack had seen Daniel at his best, his worst and everything in between. He had brought Daniel home to stay after they lost Sha're and Skaara to Apophis and again after Sha're's death at Teal'c's hand so he could watch for any signs that his gentle friend's grief would be expressed self destructively. Jack had also seen Daniel at his most uncontrolled after Shyla had put him through the sarcophagus heaven only knew how may times. Dr. 'there's always a non-violent solution' Jackson had almost shot Jack in that storage room. Jack was thankful every day that Daniel had not pulled the trigger, he knew first hand how much damage the guilt would have done. More damage than the addiction ever had. Jack knew the main reason Daniel had not pulled the trigger was the friendship and respect they shared.

That same friendship and respect that had slowly been eroded away by the job, the petty squabbles, the harsh words. Lately, Jack realized, they had been spending less and less time together. He had no idea why Carter and Teal'c had thought Jack would have seen Daniel during his time off. The only time Jack and Daniel saw each other off the base lately, was their regular Friday movie and pizza nights. Teal'c would pick the movie, Carter would do popcorn. When had they stopped spending time together? When had Daniel stopped spending the night in his old room after an evening of chess and discussions of everything from movies to politics. When had they stopped having lunch together no matter how busy they both were. When had the foundation of their friendship crumbled?

Jack's thoughts turned to the conversation, or lack thereof, he had just had with Daniel, even as his truck turned off the highway and onto city streets. The hollowness and lack of inflection in Daniel's voice said more than the words ever could. Where there was always some emotion, either positive or negative, there had been nothing. No inflection at all. Even when the archaeologist was at his most distracted there was always something in the tone of his voice. Wonder, awe, perplexity and lately, irritation more often than not. The more Jack reviewed the 'phone call, the more anxious he got. His heart rate climbing with the speedometer needle.

Pulling up outside Daniel's apartment building, Jack didn't even pause to lock his truck. He fumbled at the lobby door for the correct key, finally finding it and letting himself into the building. No matter how hard Jack punched the 'up' button it did not increase the speed of the elevator car. Just as Jack considered taking the stairs, no matter how hard eight floors would be on his knees, the doors opened, closed and the car started its slow climb upward.

'You really need to get an apartment on a lower floor, there Danny boy.' Jack mumbled distractedly.

As soon as the doors opened on Daniel's floor, Jack was out of the conveyance, down the hall and knocking insistently on the apartment door. Even if Daniel had been at his best he could not have made it from the bedroom to the front door in the time Jack gave him. Once the door was closed behind him, Jack started calling his friend's name.

"Daniel, hey Daniel, I know you're here. Where are ya buddy?" A quick glance told Jack that Daniel was not in the living room or dining room. Two steps to the left told him his friend wasn't in the study. Four steps to the right and Jack could see Daniel was not in the kitchen. That left the bedroom and the bathroom. There being no 'phone in the bathroom, Jack pushed open the bedroom door from ajar.

Relief flowed over Jack as he spotted the object of his search perched on the edge of his queen-sized bed, fully clothed and apparently in one piece.

"Hey, buddy, late night last night? Too many thought bunnies scampering around for you to sleep?" Jack's light teasing tone had a forced edge to it.

The alarm bells that had been tolling softly inside Jack's military mind started clanging uncontrollably. Daniel neither responded nor acknowledged Jack's presence in his bedroom in any way. Jack folded his 6' 2" frame into a crouch in front of the still man. Some small movements had Jack's face positioned directly in front of Daniel's. Jack could not see the sky blue eyes of his friend for the reflection in his glasses. Gentle movements slipped the eyewear from the expressionless face.

"Hey, Danny boy, ya in there?" Jack made a concentrated effort not to let the worry he was feeling seep into his words.

A blink.

"Jack?" Daniel's was flat and distant. 

He blinked again.

"Yeah, Daniel, its me." Jack kept his voice calm and even.

Blink

"What time is it, Jack?"

Blink.

"Time?"

Blink.

"Yes, time. What time is it?"

OK, Jack could play along with this for a while. A glance at his watch provided the information requested.

"It's one thirty in the afternoon, why?"

"I couldn't find the clock." This was not going anywhere that Jack could fathom.

"Daniel, what the heck is up with you today? A thought occurred to Jack. "How long have you been sitting here?"

Daniel's gaze cleared and focused intently on Jack's soft brown eyes. "I did something terrible, Jack."

"Wha..." The change of subject had Jack at a loss.

"I'm a monster, an horrible monster. No better than the Goa'uld." Daniel's words came in a quiet rush, his eyes darting away from Jack's questioning gaze.

"What are you talking about?" Jack was trying very hard to make sense out of what his distraught friend was saying. 

"I destroyed SG-1. I sent Teal'c to his death. Put Sam in jail. And you, Jack, I treated you exactly the way I hate to be treated. I placated and ignored you, gave you a distasteful job and an ultimatum: Do it or retire. I manipulated those around me for my own ends." Daniel's clear blue eyes took on the over bright quality of suppressed tears while the words tumbled over one another.

"I'm sorry, Jack, I'm so sorry. I keep going over and over it and I keep coming to the same conclusion. I have no right to be free. I should be in jail instead of Sam."

"Daniel." Jack's tone was soft, almost tender, with concern.

"No, Jack, you don't understand."

"No, Daniel, I don't understand. Why don't you explain it to me?"

"You tried to help me and in return I humiliated and insulted you. There is no excuse for the things I did. You should lock me up and throw away the key." Daniel's eyes met Jack's for the first time since his verbal tirade began. The emotional pain and anguish Jack saw there tore at his heart.

"Daniel, back up. Start at the beginning. Explain what it is you're talking about."

Daniel looked intently at Jack. What was Jack saying? He was there, at the end, when Daniel destroyed Moscow. Jack was there, the pain of the humiliation and betrayal clearly evident in the expression on his face. Daniel's eyes shifted past Jack to the room around him. This wasn't his bedroom in the mansion. It wasn't the bunker under the living room. Where was he? Correction where were they?

"Jack, where are we?" The alarm bells in the back of Jack's mind started clanging again.

"We're in the bedroom of your apartment, Daniel. Where did you think you were?"

"Apartment? What happened to the house?"

"What house, Daniel?" The alarm bells were becoming deafening.

"My house..." Daniel was going to continue, but the look on Jack's face stopped him. Jack really didn't know what he was talking about. 'Better stop now before the cell he deserved ended up being in the psyche ward.'

Jack wasn't getting anywhere with this conversation. He was clearly over his head. Ever a man of action, Jack decided Daniel would be much better off at the base under the watchful eye of Dr. Frasier.

"OK, Daniel, why don't we go back to the mountain and have the Doc take a look at you. You don't look so hot ya know."

"Jack, I haven't been to Cheyenne Mountain in over a year. Just take me home. I have a physician on staff, although I feel fine, tired, but fine."

Jack didn't think playing into someone's delusion was a good thing, but if it got Daniel into a doctor's care with little or no fuss he was willing to take the chance.

"OK, I'll take you home." 

Jack slowly and painfully unfolded himself from the crouch he had maintained for longer than his knees would have liked. He held out his hand, instinctively knowing his friend would need the assistance to rise from the bed. Daniel took the proffered hand and stiffly came up off of his perch. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. He did not relish the thought of carry 180 lbs of solid archaeologist to his truck.

Slowly, with Jack's hand never leaving Daniel's upper arm, the two men exited the bedroom and maneuvered their way through the dining and living rooms. As Jack made the left turn that would take them down the short hall to the front door, Daniel stopped, his eyes riveted on an antique buffet, its top cluttered with artifacts. The younger man pulled his arm out of the older man's grip and stepped slowly toward the object in his sight. Jack turned, curious to know what had caught Daniel's attention.

In the centre of the large buffet sat a crude basket, directly in front of the basket there was a very simple cup. The cup was plain, no writing, no pictures and no handle. Daniel was reaching slowly and carefully for the vessel. Both the basket and the cup looked familiar to Jack, but his mind just wasn't making the connection at the moment. Daniel's long fingers wrapped themselves reverently around the cup and brought it from the table to a point inches from his body at heart level.

"Sha're." Daniel whispered.

Realization slammed into Jack. The basket contained Sha're's personal possessions presented to Daniel by Kasuf after the funeral on Abydos. The cup was their wedding cup. Jack wished, not for the first time that day that he knew what was going on in his friend's overactive brain. Not being telepathic, Jack decided he should brace himself for the worst. He just wished he knew what the worst was.

"He told me she would be proud of me. He knew what I had done..."

Daniel's too bright eyes moved from the cup to Jack, searching his friend's face for something. Jack didn't know what Daniel was looking for, but he tried to school the fear out of his eyes and replace it with compassion.

"Dreams teach."

Daniel's whole demeanor suddenly changed. His back straightened, his shoulders drew back, and his head came up. The azure blue eyes now clear, piercing. There was no longer any sign of the miserable man Jack had found in the bedroom a long 30 minutes ago. Dr. Daniel Jackson, archaeologist, linguist, and bane of Jack's existence was back.

"It was a dream. Just a dream. I didn't actually do any of those things."

Daniel turned his attention back to the cup in hands. He caressed it lovingly with the tips of his fingers and then put it back in its place in front of the basket. Jack was still at a loss for something to say that wouldn't be contrite of cliché.

Daniel's attention came back to his unnaturally silent C.O. "Why are you here, Jack?"

'Come on, O'Neill, you can do honest.' Jack thought as he searched for a non-sarcastic reply. "Honestly?"

Daniel nodded, his silence giving Jack permission to express what was really on his mind.

"You sounded like you needed a friend...on the 'phone...when I called..." Jack stuttered to a halt, Daniel's confused look throwing him off his train of thought.

"Are we?'

"Ya lost me." Jack shrugged. "Are we what?

"Friends?" Daniel's voice was a desperate whisper.

Jack felt like Teal'c had just punched him in the solar plexus. He knew things had not been perfect between the two of them for quite a while, but he never thought he had given Daniel cause to doubt their underlying friendship no matter how shaky it's foundation had become. How did he explain to Daniel his need to pull away when Jack didn't understand it himself? He felt that he couldn't come right out and tell Daniel their friendship had started to scare him with its intimacy. How did he explain how he had become more comfortable with Daniel than he had ever been with his wife? Would Daniel understand that Jack could be totally honest with the younger man in ways his ex-wife could have never fathomed. How did he explain all of this without destroying the last remnants of their relationship?

As Jack stood in the hall contemplating his reply, Daniel had moved into the living room and sat heavily on the sofa facing Jack. Everything about Daniel's mien screamed defeat and rejection. The slumped shoulders, the arms crossed defensively in front of him, and the downcast expression that refused to look at Jack for fear of what he might see there.

Jack's heart ached at what he was seeing. All at once he knew if he didn't tell Daniel about what had just gone through his mind while standing here, he would lose not only Daniel, but probably the best archaeologist, anthropologist, linguist SG-1 and the SGC ever had or would ever have. Daniel was a man about to 'throw in the towel'. Jack had seen it before. He had seen a soldier just up and stop fighting for his life in the middle of a battle and, inevitably, he would lose that life. Jack stepped into the living room and moved toward the opposite sofa when Daniel spoke.

"It's OK Jack, you don't have to answer the question if you don't want to. I know how bad you are at this ‘expressing feelings’ stuff." Jack could hear the defeat clearly in Daniel's voice.

Jack decided this was not something that could be discussed from the other side of the room. He silently crossed the couple of feet and sat on the coffee table directly in front of Daniel.

"Daniel, look at me." Jack's voice was gentle and full of the emotions coursing through him. Daniel was still, his eyes fixed on a spot around Jack's shoes.

"Look at me, damn it." In desperation Jack grabbed both of Daniel's shoulders, giving them a shake, urging him to look up.

Daniel's shining, blue eyes rose slowly to meet Jack's deep brown ones.

"Jack I think you should go now." Daniel spoke slowly, the hurt evident in his tone.

"Not 'till you hear me out, Daniel."

"I don't think we have anything more to say to each other. You have made your feelings abundantly clear." Daniel replied in a rush.

"Nothing between us has ever been clear, Daniel. Not our words and especially not our feelings." Jack held Daniel's gaze while he searched for the right words to express what he was thinking and feeling.

"First, to answer your question, yes we are friends. Ah..." Jack held up a finger to quell Daniel's inevitable interruption. "I know I haven't been behaving much like a friend. We are such different people that we really have to work at the friendship thing. Lately, I know I haven't been holding up my end..."

"No, Jack, don't blame yourself. I pulled away. I realized I was constantly leaning on you. Constantly seeking your attention, your approval. I had to pull away to prove I could do this on my own." Daniel's interruption petered to a halt.

"On you own? Why do you think you have to do anything on you own? You have a family now, Daniel. We lean on each other...Listen to me spout platitudes when I'm the one who pulled the support out from under you," Jack had to stop. He was about to bare his soul here and he wasn't sure if either of them were ready for this. Surprisingly Daniel let the silence hang between them. Daniel’s piercing blue eyes searching for something in Jack's brown pools.

"Daniel..." Jack floundered.

"Jack, what's wrong?" There was something going on with the older man. Daniel didn't know what, but it was scaring him.

Jack got up from his seat on the coffee table. The proximity was making the confession even harder. Jack stood with his back to Daniel, his gaze fixed on the scene beyond the balcony.

"Every time you went missing, got hurt, were presumed dead, made me choose between you and some alien race, a part of me died. Every mission you proved to me you could accurately fire you weapon, competently cover the team's six, even follow orders, I realized you didn't need me to baby-sit you anymore." Jack paused.

"Isn't that a good thing, Jack?" Daniel's comment was tentative.

"It's great." Jack didn't sound convinced. "It enabled me to assign you to other teams as your expertise was needed. It also enabled me to pull back into my shell. That same shell you pulled me out of on Abydos." This was getting just a little too emotional. Jack decided he could not bring himself to expose anymore of his tender underbelly right now. Maybe another time, but today had already been emotionally draining for the both of them.

"Look, Daniel," Jack turned back to face the other man. "I just want us to go back to the way we were. The chess games, the long talks, the star gazing..." Jack let the sentence hang.

"We've both changed a lot in the past four years, Jack. We can't go back." Daniel's statement hit Jack like a blow.

Daniel saw Jack recoil. He knew he had to say something before Jack retreated back behind his stoic facade.

"But we can go forward."

Jack looked directly at Daniel, his eyes full of hope.

"We could even start now." Daniel's eyes shifted away. Letting Jack make the next move.

"Yeah, that could work. We could go back to my place, order pizza. You could tell me what the hell is going on with you."

"Don't push it, Jack." Daniel's tone told Jack that he would have to wait a while before Daniel would be ready to tell him about the dream and it's consequences, but he would tell him eventually. "What's wrong with staying here?"

"Your know exactly what's wrong with your apartment, Daniel."

Daniel raised his eyebrows questioningly. "No TV."

"I'll get my coat."

Jack hadn't told Daniel everything, but he'd told him enough. Daniel now understood some of what was going on behind Jack's stony expression and Jack realized Daniel still needed him. Needed him to care like only a true friend could. Things weren't perfect, maybe they never had been, but now they could move on. Now they could rebuild the foundation of their friendship. Make it stronger, use steel instead of brick. Change the shape, but not the function. They would never change the function.

Jack silently vowed, as he ushered Daniel out of the lobby door and into his pick-up, that he would never let the foundation crumble again no matter how emotionally painful the process was.

"Daniel, by the way, how long were you sitting...there?"

"What day is it, Jack?"

**The End**

  


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> Notes: I realize the mild similarity to some events in The Light. I tried to take this story in another direction, but no matter how hard I tried it wouldn't go.
> 
> Thanks to my beta, Lady Lisa. Her kind words and encouragement made me brave enough to let this see the light of day. 
> 
> This is my first attempt at fanfiction, and my first attempt to write fiction since high school (we won’t go into how long ago that was.) Enjoy.
> 
> Feedback is necessary to my existence: dgjackman@telus.net

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>   
>  © April 2004 They're not mine and I'm not getting paid. A damn shame on both   
>  counts.

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